


No Place To Hide

by fade_like_starlight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Hufflepuff, Rare Pairings, Ravenclaw, hogwarts students on the run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 16:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11317566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fade_like_starlight/pseuds/fade_like_starlight
Summary: Justin is enjoying his exile in an alcohol soaked haze when a reminder of home is dropped in his lap.





	No Place To Hide

**Author's Note:**

> Original Notes: This is kind of ... pre-romance. But, you know, awesome pairing, and I was beside myself halfway through when I remembered they had lots more in common than I thought. Fun pairing, and if Justin bears a slight, if British, resemblance to the Chuck-Bass-of-Gossip-Girl stereotype of young rich kids, well, all the better. :)
> 
> Updated Notes: Originally written in 2007. I don't remember the LJ community but it was a rare pair challenge with a random generator - I was lucky enough to get a pair with a deep backstory :) Of all the fics I'm loading up here for archive purposes, this is honestly one of my favourites.

Cuba was dirty. Dirty, hot, full of scammers and street kids and American tourists in loud shirts, peering around corners in search of "adventure", mostly concerning cigars, or women, or occasionally both. It was a place for forgotten hopes, forgotten dreams, forgotten people.

And Justin Finch-Fletchley loved every inch of it.

Cuba was no place for a wealthy young British noble. It was not the sort of place he could discuss in his mother's parlour room over tea and scones. It was not the sort of place to attract the "right" sort of young lady, the pretty, tanned, manicured sort that could be found sunning herself on the French Riviera.

No, Cuba was not the sort of place young men of Justin's stature and breeding went to be seen. It was the sort of place they went when they didn't want to be seen. When they were dealing in the dark - sometimes literally, although Justin had always steered clear of the hard stuff.

It was the sort of place a wealthy young British Muggleborn went to hide.

Justin slipped into an easy existence in Cuba. He'd wake late, the warm and sticky breeze rousing him from a deep sleep. He learnt to surf early on, and spent his afternoon catching waves, and his evenings catching Mojitos and dancing girls. He hung out with dirty cops and honest criminals, barmaids, mobsters, and on one memorable occasion, a group of hungover strippers.

And anytime he felt a twinge of homesickness - a flash of guilt, or a moment of pure terror, he shouted the bar on his already considerable tab, pushing the thoughts of home away.

He was propped on a lounge chair in his miniscule front garden, local paper shielding his face from the sun, ice melting in the jug of sangria in the grass next to him, and wand carefully concealed in his cargo pants.

He heard a crack, then there was a shout, and a brunette in his lap.

Justin jumped up, knocking the girl to the ground.

"Holy hell - what the fuck are you doing?" he swore, wand in his hand before he knew what was happening.

"I'm sorry,' she cried out, "I didn't mean to land there, did they come, is anyone else -" she stopped and spun around quickly, searching the street, but it was empty, and she turned back to Justin, and he saw her blue eyes, dirt streaked face - and her raised wand.

"Obliv-" she said, but Justin raised his own wand and blocked it. His time in the DA had not been in vain.

Her eyes widened, then relaxed as she seemed to recognise him.

"Oh," she said, visibly relaxing, "you too?"

"Six months," he said, then looked closer. "Penelope?"

"Justin," she replied. "You look like shit."

"Thanks," he said drily, pulling over another chair for her. "Want a drink?"

Penelope Clearwater glanced around, still alert for her attackers, then took a seat and the offered drink.

"Thanks," she said. "I thought I was gone for a minute there, they had me, but I managed to slip away and Apparate - I didn't even know where I was going, I just hoped for somewhere safe - is this - I landed in Cuba, then?"

"You think Cuba is safe?" Justin laughed bitterly. "Well. I guess it is."

Penny swept her hand over the grass. "I used to live here," she said. "My parents were researchers - scientists. They worked in a medical centre in Havana. We lived here until I was ten. They moved back to England and I got my letter, all in a week. This is the only real home I've had, other than Hog - school."

She looked at him closely, taking in his ripped shirt, too-long hair, dark skin. "You're about the last person I'd expect here, though. Surely Mummy can afford to spirit you away to some Swiss retreat to wait out the war?"

"Didn't we have this argument when I was twelve?" Justin drained his glass. "Course, that time we were considerably less comfortable, recovering from a Basilisk attack and listening to Hermione Granger moan about her schoolwork. I'm not the Swiss retreat type."

"Yes, you are," Penny slipped off her jumper, revealing a modest pale blue tank. Justin watched from under his sunglasses. He'd had a crush on the Ravenclaw even when he was twelve, cooped up in the Hospital Wing until Madam Pomfrey was satisfied they were completely recovered. Time had done her no injury.

"You are completely the Swiss retreat type, my boy. Lounging around the slopes, drinking champagne with the local royals. In fact, if rumour proves correct, isn't that how you spent your summer two years ago?"

"Keeping track of me?"

"My mum was a fan of the royal set. The Finch-Fletchley name is surprisingly prominent. Didn't your sister just marry a lord?"

Justin rolled his eyes. "Duke, actually. Don't let him catch you making that mistake."

"So what is the brother-in-law of a duke doing in the wilds of Cuba?"

He looked over at her. The sangria was beginning to put a healthy flush in her cheeks, and she'd kicked off her shoes, revelling in the sunshine. Her eyes still held the distrust he'd come to recognise in his own, and he knew, no matter where they were, they'd never truly be safe.

"This is what we do, Penny. Our shameful little secrets don't get hidden on the ski fields in Switzerland. Too many eyes there. Too many lenses. My _mother_ -" he put on the highborn tone that Penny had only just realised was missing - "told me to hide out somewhere safe and secret, not to protect my life, of course, but to protect the family. To save our name from the embarrassment that my 'world' has become."

She poked him in the arm. "Well, sunshine, your family is still paying for your little Cuban getaway, so stop being so maudlin and help me come up with a plan."

"Plan?"

"To go home? To go fight? Come on, I know you're not that stupid. Surely you can see something is coming. Haven't you been listening to Potterwatch?"

He pushed his glasses up on his head and stared at her. 'Penelope, are you insane? Have you been listening to me? I _can't_ go back. I've been _banished_."

"So you're just going to stay here, drinking the war away?"

"It's worked so far," he said, tapping the pitcher with his wand and watching it fill up again.

Penny tipped the remainder of her glass on the ground, raising her eyes in challenge.

"Don't," he said.

"Ernie," she announced. "Susan. Hannah."

"They'll have forgotten me."

"Remember Cedric Diggory."

He flipped his sunglasses back down so he wouldn't have to look directly into her eyes. She did this to him last time, too, in second year when he didn't want to face his friends. When his blood forced him to hide from the world, when it was something to be ashamed of.

"That's low, Penny."

"It's real, Justin. And if you can't see that, well," Penny stood and put her jumper back on. "I'm going back. Meet me in Leeds if you're coming. Get to the High Street. I'll find you."

She moved away and began to twirl into an Apparition.

"Penny! Wait - I -" she stopped and watched as he jumped up, knocking the sangria to the ground. He stood next to her. He was a full head taller than her now. When did that happen?

"You're - I mean, I -" Justin gave up and kissed her, slipping his hand behind her head, lifting her brown curls off her neck, whispering in her ear. "In case we go down fighting. So you don't forget me."

"I haven't forgotten you yet," she said, smiling a little. "Go on then. Get dressed. Let's go make sure some Death Eaters remember us, too."


End file.
